Under the Light of a Blood Moon
by darksupernatural
Summary: Sam and Dean are on a hunt and something happens to the youngest Winchester. Can Dean pull him through or will he have to stop Sam as he promised he would? Birthday fic for Blue Peanut. will be complete in three chapters. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a birthday present for Blue Peanut M&M. Hope you like, girl. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did I'd let her have them for the day. Party time. I'll have to settle for making her happy seeing me wreck Sam(as usual, we're both addicted to Sammybashing!) Only thing that's mine, sadly, is any mistakes. Enjoy...**

**Under the Light of a Blood Moon**

**Chapter 1**

The moon had just risen above the treetops, glowing red in the misty night. Sam looked up at it, seeing the wise face that resided there in a stark kind of relief. It made him wonder if the face of the "man in the moon" symbolized that there really was some cosmic power out there after all. He wondered if he was worth saving, even if he had all the faith in the world. Somehow, after all that had happened in his life, he doubted he could have enough faith. Sam turned his exasperated gaze from the sky to his brother who was still mumbling under his breath about _sonuvabitch demons _and _lie through their teeth even after I knock them down the host's throats_.

"How can you _not_ put any stock in what she said, Dean?"

"How? 'S easy. Demons lie Sam!" Dean retorted as he spun, his feet noisy on the leaf strewn ground, to face his brother.

"But she knew about the virus in River Grove. She knew about Andy, Ava. The intensity of my visions lately… Hell Dean she told me that the last three had me so out of it…"

"ENOUGH SAM! Damn it, don't go there! The bitch lied. No chance are you goin' darkside. Over. My. Damn. Dead. Body! Got me?! Dean menaced, poking Sam in the chest as he vented his frustrations. He lowered his hand and turned away, looking off into the woods. He looked more closely as a flash of movement skirted his vision. He dismissed it as just a deer walking along the game trail ahead of them. "What the hell made us hunt down a demon in the damn woods anyhow? Too much like camping. I hate camping."

Sam heaved a weary sigh and backed down falling into step beside Dean. "Yeah, nothing good happens in a tent."

"Speak for yourself, leaky tent boy. Remember that hunt in the reserve outside Austin? That ranger knew the way of the woods." Dean said, glancing sideways at Sam and wiggling his eyebrows.

Sam laughed and looked ahead of them on the trail. Movement caught his gaze. He made a choked sound, and pointed over Dean's shoulder as Dean stepped in front of Sam automatically. A figure in a long black duster and wide brimmed hat stepped off the trail and disappeared into the woods along side it. "Hey!" Dean yelled, pulling his Colt. Sam pulled his 9 mm and grabbed Dean's shoulder to keep him from bolting after the thing.

"What if it's another demon?"

"If it spouts off any more of this darkside B.S., I'm gonna make it swallow its teeth and follow up with a holy water chaser." Another flash of movement further down the trail had Dean sprinting off when the figure turned and ran.

"DEAN!" Sam yelled, moving quickly to catch up as Dean disappeared into the moonlight night. Sam followed the cracking, snapping branches and twigs as his brother barreled through the trees. Movement to Sam's right stopped him as Dean got further ahead. The dark figure stepped out into the crimson moonlight, directly in front of Sam, causing him to jump and lift his gun, pointing it dead center between the thing's shadowed eyes. Sam took a breath and tried to stare at the features beneath the dark hat.

"What are you?" Sam growled. Red eyes glowed briefly and Sam's head spun as the world tilted for him. It stopped seconds later, making his stomach lurch painfully. He grunted but steadied his aim even as his eyes panned over his surroundings, still not completely leaving the stranger's figure. He found himself in a clearing, surrounded by trees that were fully lit by the blood red appearance of the moon. A disused game trail left the clearing to the east. Everything was colored a sickening crimson by the moonlight. Sam staggered as the light made him nauseous. The man's duster rustled and Sam forced himself to straighten, tightening the grip on his pistol, and casting his attention fully back to… whatever was in the clearing with him only a couple feet away.

He blinked when the red light of the moon burned painfully behind his eye lids. Suddenly the thing was directly in front of him. The gun was wrenched painfully from his hands and skittered several feet away to embed itself under a pile of fallen leaves at the base of a large sugar maple tree. He found himself held immobile in the demon's grasp as it reached out and gripped his biceps. "What do you want?" He ground out, fighting for control of his body in the demon's grip, only managing to gain back his vocal cords and ragged breathing.

A deep voice resonated from the shadow under the brim of the hat. "Fear. It's such an…" the demon drew a breath through its nose and released it on almost a contented sigh, "… exhilarating thing. Your brother is scared. You're scared. You hunters and your concept of good and …evil. You have no idea what lies beyond the black and white. Delusion becomes reality when the vast expanse turns gray." A rattling sound reverberated through the darkness, grating on Sam's nerves and causing pain in his head.

A cold hand snaked out too fast for Sam to see, latching on to his temple. The icy cold against his cheekbone chilling his body as it spread through his blood to his brain.

"Nnnnn…uh." Sam choked out as he crumpled to the ground in an unmoving heap. The cloaked figure looked down, red eyes glowing briefly before turning into a molten silver gray and finally cooling to blend back into the shadowed features. It lifted it's hand and shook it, the rattling sound growing to a crescendo before it died off as the demon lowered his gloved fist. The demon turned, leaves rustling beneath the hem of the black duster as he stepped out of the red moonlight and into the dark beneath the trees. The final whisper of the heavy fabric gave way to the stirring of the breeze and the chirp of crickets.

Dean stopped in his flight through the woods as he lost sight of the dark shadow moving fast through the woods. "Sonuvabitch!" He said as he put his hands on his thighs and breathed slow to catch his breath. He waited a moment for Sam to catch up to him, standing straight when he heard no crashes through brush behind him or snapping of twigs. "Sam?" Dean turned and listened, hearing nothing but the stirring breeze and crickets resuming the chirping melody that was disturbed by the hunter's flight.

"Where the hell is that kid? SAMMY?!" Dean yelled. He turned back, his hackles rising at the thought of Sam and him being separated. _How the hell could I not realize he wasn't behind me? _"Sammy!" Dean barked out sharply. He looked up through a gap in the trees to see that the moon had moved high and was now white. Normal. Dean huffed a laugh. "Freakin woods. Too damn much like camping. Somethin' crappy always happens. SAAAMMMMYYYYY!" Dean yelled into the moon light, hoping to hear his brother's typical response of "_ya tryin' to wake the dead, Dean? I'm right here."_

Hearing nothing but the crickets, which he had startled into silence briefly, Dean ran back the way he had come, following his own back trail with ease. He kept his eyes open for signs of Sam. _Maybe he tripped over his own big feet, or a root. He's so gettin' hell for wearing those stupid sneakers instead of hikers or work boots. Probably sprained an ankle. Oh that'll be fun. Bitchy Sammy with a limp._ Dean stopped, looking off to his right when he saw the weak remnants of a new trail being made through the underbrush. He looked at a twig and saw a single strand of longish brown hair. "Sammy?" Dean questioned again, certain his brother was close. He followed the new trail that Sam had made and came to an abrupt dead end. No signs of Sam or the dude they'd seen in the woods.

"Damn it Sam. You keep disappearing like this… SAMMY!" Dean broke off his sentence to yell again. "Scarin' the hell outta me. ANSWER ME DAMN IT!" Dean turned to his left, and spotted a weak game trail. "Maybe he followed the trail. Sammy, I am so gonna kick your ass little brother." _Right after I make sure you're okay._ Dean took off down the trail at a lope. He'd been moving for several moments when the trail took an abrupt left and emptied into a clearing. Dean stopped, the white light of the moon, as he broke from the trees, nearly blinding him. He blinked and his heart dropped to his toes. "SAM?!" His brother was laying on his side in the leaves, his back to Dean, unmoving. "Sammy!" Dean cried as he rushed to his brother and slid to his knees on the ground, sending leaves skittering up over Sam's back to stick in the fabric of his flannel shirt. Dean brushed the leaves away and reached around Sam, feeling for a pulse. He found one, a little too fast for his liking. Dean put a hand to Sam's back and felt the slight rise and fall that let him know Sam was breathing. "Sammy, wake up. C'mon kid. Don't do this." _Did he have another vision? Did he find that damn stranger? _ Dean felt over Sam's body, looking for injury and pausing when he felt Sam's clammy skin. "Gotta get you outta the woods kiddo. You're packin' a chill. Come on Sam. Need ya to wake up." Dean rolled Sam gently onto his back and lifted him so that he was semi-sitting. Dean crawled around to sit behind him, allowing Sam to come to rest against his chest. Sam's head lolled a bit and Dean straightened it up when Sam wheezed, signaling a blocked airway from the position of his head.

"Mnn." Sam groaned in Dean's arms, the sound more a breathless, meaningless grunt. It was enough.

"Sammy, hey. Open your eyes." Dean said as he angled his torso to look into Sam's face even as he supported his brother against him.

"D-nnn." Sam said, groggily.

"Hey, yeah,'s me."

"Guh," Sam grunted as his eyes opened and scrunched shut again, pain lines ringing the corners.

"You hurt?"

"Head." Sam whispered, pulling himself out of Dean's arms to flop onto his side in the leaves. He turned his head into the earth and groaned, his feet digging at the ground slowly as he writhed in pain.

"Did you hit your head?" Dean asked automatically ghosting his hand over Sam's disheveled hair gently, feeling for the signs of an injury. The stickiness of blood or the telltale heat of swelling.

"Nuh." Sam ground out breathlessly. "Migraine." He whispered as the word turned to a groan of pain.

"Okay. We're only 'bout a quarter mile from the car. Get ya back there an' to the motel." Dean gripped the shoulders of Sam's jacket and sat him up as gently as he could. Sam hissed and clenched his eyes shut tight. "Sorry." Dean shifted from his knees to his feet, remaining crouched and trying not to jostle Sam. Every puff of agonized breath, every stifled groan of pain that Sam uttered, or tried not to, set Dean's teeth on edge. He hated that he hadn't kept an eye on Sam. Hated that Sam was in pain. Hated the crunching leaves that made Sam's eyes water with pain. "Easy Sammy. Gonna get you on your feet now." Dean said softly as he looped Sam's long arm over his shoulders around the back of his neck. Dean bench pressed his brother and heaved them both to their feet.

"MMmhhhhnnnnnn." Sam groaned low as he sagged against Dean, nearly sending them both back into the leaves.

"Whoa, easy! I gotcha." Dean whispered as he locked his knees and took nearly all of Sam's weight. Sam settled against Dean, the top of his head hitting Dean's cheekbone hard enough to sting. Dean gripped the wrist of the arm that was over his shoulders and hooked his fingers around the belt that circled Sam's waist. He felt Sam lift his head and try valiantly to stop it from lolling on his shoulders. "'s okay. I gotcha. Just take it easy." Dean took a hesitant step forward, checking to see if Sam's feet would follow. They did. Dean took another step and a deep breath, starting the trek out of the woods with Sam in tow.

Sam forced his eyes open, trying to focus on the ground beneath his feet. He felt detached from his body, from everything but the pain in his head. It blanketed him, suffocated him. Tried to drown him, light him on fire. It tried every way imaginable to take him under. He blinked hard, breathed. Let Dean ground him. Sam's head lolled back and he took another deep breath, this time squinting at the white moon high over head until his sensitive eyes adjusted to the light. Then they opened wide, glazing just slightly as a gray film passed over them. It cleared and Sam blinked again, his head dropping nearly to his chest again, feeling Dean tighten his hold once again. He let Dean have him. Trusted him. Sam's world went gray around the edges and he floated, letting his feet follow Dean's lead as they scuffed through the leaves and over twigs.

Minutes later, or maybe hours, Dean dragged a heavy, nearly unresponsive Sam into the clearing just off the road where they had parked the Impala. Her black paint shone in the white light of the moon. "Aw, baby," Dean panted, "I sure am glad to see you." Dean pulled Sam up and braced him, letting him lean heavily as he let go enough to get the passenger door open. "That's it Sammy. We're back at the car."

"De?"

"Yeah Sammy. Let's get you in the car." Dean took Sam's arm and steered him around to get a better grip on his sibling. "Dude, you're too freakin' tall for my good. Whoa!" Dean cried as Sam started to crumple against him, his hooded eyes slipping closed. Dean gripped Sam's biceps and held him up, quickly wrapping an arm around his back and easing him against his chest. "Watch your head, watch your head." Dean muttered as he cupped a hand to the back of Sam's head, feeling the softness of his wavy hair, the leaves that still clung tightly to the strands as if they wanted to leave the forest. Dean understood how they felt. He finally wrestled Sam's gangly arms and legs in to the seat and propped him against the seat. Dean took a breath and ran on aching legs around the car, sliding into the driver's seat. He settled his brother more firmly and fired the Impala's rumbling engine. He pulled out, careful to ease into the gas so he didn't spin or fishtail on the grassy surface. He reached the pavement and laid his foot on the accelerator, the engine responding with a throaty growl, the big car smoothly eating up the road back to their motel.

It was after one a.m. when Dean pulled into the motel parking lot putting a hand to his brother's chest to keep him from slumping forward as he eased the brakes on the car. Sam never moved. He looked around carefully to make sure no one would see him toting a nearly unconscious little brother into the motel room. Seeing no one, he turned to his brother and reached out, feeling first for a pulse and finding one, moving his hand to brush back an untamable lock of Sam's hair. "Okay Sasquatch, let's get you into the room." Dean said as he reached for his door handle and soon skirted the car, reaching for the passenger side door. He opened it with a squeal and cringed when he saw Sam's eyes open blearily. Sam blinked once and Dean watched his mouth turn down into a pout as his nose twitched. "Hey sleeping beauty. Glad you decided to make it a little easier hauling your ass into the room." Dean said as he reached out and cupped Sam's neck, feeling the warmth that was his little brother.

"Dean?" Sam said, tiredly. "Are we back at the motel?"

"Yeah, come on. Can you walk?" Dean asked as he pulled Sam's feet out of the foot well and turned him in the seat.

"Yeah. Think so." Sam pushed to his feet with only a little help from Dean. He swayed and winced as his head throbbed. Dean moved to his side and gripped his arm just above his elbow as Sam stepped forward. They made slow progress but were soon in the room. Dean locked the door behind him automatically and returned his hand to his brother, just guiding him as Sam found his own footing across the carpet. Dean took Sam's shoulder and eased him down onto the bed, putting his feet up and pulling off his shoes. Sam let Dean remove his shoes before turning over in the bed and putting the heel of his palm up to his forehead, pressing hard on the ridge of his eyebrows.

"Ya want somethin' for your head?"

Sam sighed and relaxed, falling asleep without answering his brother's question. Dean watched the tension melt out of the lines of his brother's body. Sam's hand relaxed but remained at his head, now lying on the pillow. Dean ran a hand up over his hair and down the back of his neck, feeling the clamminess of his sweaty skin. He stood from the bed and reached for his duffel, digging through to find some clean clothes. After wrapping his hand around a clean pair of boxers and a gray tee-shirt he headed for the shower. Returning from his shower fifteen minutes later and still feeling exhausted, Dean checked to make sure Sam was sleeping peacefully before laying on his own bad and closing his eyes with a sigh.

_Sam stood in the clearing, the shadowed form facing him from only inches away. "You know what you'll become. You can't win if you try to fight. It grows stronger as it eats away your innocence. You are becoming who you're meant to be. You're growing dark, the evil in you pervading every cell. It darkens and destroys you Sam Winchester. It will take everything from you if you don't stop it. It will destroy. It will take Dean, Bobby. Everyone you ever cared for will be wiped from the face of the earth by your darkness if you don't do something about it. Dean won't keep his promise. He won't stand by the words of your father. He won't stop you. He'll be the first of a long list of casualties laid at your feet in the coming war. The war you will fight for on the opposing side. It's what we want Sam. YOU CAN'T WIN." _

"_I'll never hurt him. I'll never give in! I'll die first!" Sam said, backing away from the dark form. It advanced on him in the blink of an eye. _

"_You just might. But you will lose." The hand shot out and touched Sam's temple, cold, cloying, burning a way into his brain like frostbite. Sam screamed._ Sam gasped and sat upright on the bed, sunlight streaming through the window to color the bottom of the rust colored bedspread a bright copper. His eyes were downcast, the gray color obscured by his eyelashes as Dean sat up in his bed quickly. Sam's breathing began to slow and Dean slid from his bad to perch on the edge of Sam's. He reached out.

"Sammy, ya alright?" No response and Sam's eyes remained down, looking at where his knees would be under the covers. "Sammy?" Dean touched Sam's cheek, finding it to have a flush of warmth to it. "Hey, you with me here?"

Sam shook himself and looked up, his hazel eyes finally finding Dean's. "Huh, what?"

"You alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"The migraine gone?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna grab a shower." Sam said as he pushed back the covers and stood from the bed, brushing past Dean and grabbing clothes out of his duffel which rested on the chair near the door to the bathroom. Dean turned on the edge of the bed and watched his brother as Sam disappeared into the room silently, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Huh." Dean said under his breath as he stood and reached for his discarded jeans, pulling them on. He brushed dry dirt from the knees and stood straight, popping kinks out of his spine. He reached for his jacket and shrugged into the familiar leather. He pulled his keys from his pocket and sat on the end of his messy bed, waiting for Sam to emerge from the shower. He opened the door twenty minutes later, no steam following him out of the room. He was wearing a gray tee under a brown and tan flannel and jeans with holes in both knees and frayed cuffs. His hair was wet, brushed back from his face and curling over his collar, darkening the material covering his shoulders. "Jeez Samantha. Took you long enough." Sam tucked his dirty clothes onto the chair where his duffel rested and looked at Dean silently, rolling his eyes. Dean regarded him for a moment, taking in the pinched look on his face and the washed out hazel of his eyes. "You sure you're okay?

"You want coffee or what?" Sam asked, turning to face Dean and splaying his hands out from his sides.

"Yeah, fine." Dean said quietly, staring at his brother. Dean stood and followed Sam to the Impala, scrutinizing his brother. Sam was quiet, the pinched look still dominating his features. Dean shook his head minutely and started the car. Pulling out he watched briefly as Sam turned his head to stare out the window. Dean looked again as he caught his brother's reflection in the polished glass. Sam's eyes were gray. _ What the hell?_ Dean shook himself, not letting Sam sense his agitation. "You feel like eatin' breakfast?"

Sam just gave a non committal grunt. Dean worked his hands on the firm surface of the steering wheel, his knuckles going from pink to white and back again as he squeezed the wheel tight. "Enough Sam." Dean barked. Sam jumped slightly and turned to face him, his hazel eyes confused.

"Enough what?" Sam asked.

"What's goin' on with you? You have a vision in the woods or somethin'?"

"No. I told you Dean. It was a migraine."

"Which you generally get after a vision."

"I didn't have a vision."

"So why…"

"Just. Drop. It." Sam growled.

"Fine." Dean said, his knuckles still white on the wheel.

"Fine." Sam echoed, his teeth bared in a snarl on the word.

Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the local diner and got out. Sam followed him through the door silently. Dean eyed the diner and spotted the bathroom door right near the back exit. "I'm gonna hit the head. Be back in a minute. Go ahead and order."

"Whatever." Sam said, his eyes dropping to the table top. Dean left the table and walked down the checkered tile to the bathroom, opening the door before allowing it to close and ducking in the next breath out the back exit of the diner, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. He hit a button and listened to it ring.

"_Hello?"_

"Bobby, its Dean."

"_Dean, haven't heard from you in a couple weeks, what's goin' on?"_

"Hey, where are you?"

"Utah, why?" Bobby paused; Dean could hear the engine sounds of Bobby's Chevelle in the background. "Dean, somethin' wrong?"

"I think its Sammy."

"_Ya think? What's goin' on with the boy?"_

"I don't know. He- we were on a hunt last night and we got separated. When I finally found him he was unconscious. Took me a while to wake him and when I did he had a bastard of a migraine. Got him back to the motel and he fell asleep. This morning he wakes up, won't talk, stares off into space and I… Bobby, I swear I could see his… his eyes change color." Dean said brokenly as moisture gathered in the green.

"_What?! What do you mean change color? Black?"_

"No. It's like they go, I dunno, silver- or gray, like a blind man's."

"_I'll look into it Dean. I'm headed your way. Dean, what were you huntin' last night?"_

"It was a demon. We got it. Chased it into the woods and nailed the bitch after she spouted a lotta crap about Sammy goin' darkside, the demonic virus I told ya about, the other psychics. It was pretty full of itself."

"_Then what happened? How'd ya get separated?"_

"We were walkin' back to my car when we saw this dude, dressed like somethin' outta the West. Y'know, duster, wide brimmed black hat. Anyhow Sam thought he was a demon. I took off after it and, damn it, I didn't think to make sure that Sammy was right behind me. I lost the thing and doubled back when I couldn't find Sammy. He was about a half mile east, unconscious in a clearing."

"_Okay Dean. I'll be there in about six hours. Just keep an eye on your brother."_

"Thanks man."

"_Don't thank me until we find out what's up with Sam."_

Sam smiled wanly at the waitress, trying to snap himself out of the fog that held him tight. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ He shook his head minutely, shaking his thoughts, trying to free them from the prison of his mind. The waitress smiled down at him. "What'll ya have honey?"

"Just two coffees at the moment, please. And can you bring extra cream and sugar?"

"Sure sweetie. Be back in just a moment." Sam nodded and dropped his gaze. A minute later two coffee cups filled with steaming liquid were on the table in front of him. Sam gripped the mug closest to him, the warmth seeping into his blood through his hands. She pulled her pad and a pen from her apron pocket. He smiled up at her, the smile freezing and dying as he caught her eyes. They were silver, glowing. They flashed red. Sam's hand clenched on the mug, splintering the china, sending scalding coffee over his right hand and wrist, reddening it, raising blisters as the skin puckered and steamed. Sam didn't feel it. He couldn't pull his eyes away from the waitress.

"You'll lose Sam. This is a battle you can't win. Darkness will be the victor here. You'll destroy everyone you love; the world will fall at your feet. Broken. Burning. You will come into your powers and it will blacken your soul. It will turn your eyes to pitch. You will lose Sam." The waitress said in a voice that didn't belong to her. A resonating voice Sam found familiar and painful. The _tttk-ttk-ttttkk_ of rattling bones sent a shaft of pain through Sam's head.

"NO!" Sam bolted from the table, still clenching the broken shards of coffee mug in his blistered hand, blood ran from his palm as he squeezed the glass. He grabbed the waitress around the shoulders, pulling her back against his chest as he faced off against the other people in the room. Some of them screamed, some cursed, some placated, trying to get him to free the waitress as Sam held the shard of china against the skin of her throat. "No, you won't turn me." Sam growled low into the waitress' ear. "I won't let you win."

"What? What are you talking about? Why are you doing this? You need help." The waitress said in a tiny, terrified voice.

"LIES!" Sam said, tightening his arm around her chest, shaking her. She screamed and clenched her eyes shut as the china bit into her neck. "You're a demon. You lie!"

Dean had hung up the call with Bobby and slipped back into the diner. His ears picked up on a commotion in the main room in front of him right away. He walked quickly down the hall, his boots thumping on the tile. A woman screamed and Dean put his hand behind his back, wrapping strong fingers around the butt of his Colt. He broke into a run as he pulled the gun, keeping it concealed at his side. Dean stopped dead in his tracks. Sam was out of the booth, holding the waitress around the shoulders. He held her back to his chest as a human shield. His muscular forearm clenched tight as tears streamed down her pale face and she pleaded for him to let her go. Sam held the jagged edge of a broken coffee mug to her throat. Dean saw that the hand holding the sliver was bright red and blistered. Burned.

"Sam, let her go!" Dean yelled, instantly making the diner fall silent. Sam stiffened and the girl cried out as she felt the china bite deeper into her neck, just enough to send warm blood down to the hollow of her collar bone. A man moved behind Sam, a folding steel chair clenched tightly in his fists. He lifted it, preparing to swing it with Sam being the intended target. Dean's gun shifted from his side to the man with the chair. A woman's shrill scream nearly drowned out the staccato report of the pistol. The bullet slammed into the seat of the chair and knocked it from the man's hands to clatter to the floor of the diner. "Don't even think about it!" Dean ground out. "All of you, back against the wall! NOW!" Dean barked out as he swept the pistol over the breakfast crowd. They scrambled to do his bidding, men holding women and children tight, staying close to the wall. Dean, when he was sure the civilians wouldn't be trouble, leveled the gun on his brother.

"Sammy, what the hell?"

"Dean. That thing, from last night. It's here, in the diner. It's in the woman." Sam shook the woman in his arms roughly and she cried out. Sam tightened his hold on the woman, making her whimper as the glass bit roughly into her neck, the jagged tip stained crimson.

"Sammy."

"NO DEAN! It's here. She said the same thing that it did to me!"

"It talked to you?!"

Sam's eyes glazed briefly, before he shook his head. They cleared. "Yes… No. I don't know. It's like it was in my head. What's happening to me?" Sam asked, puzzled as confusion swamped him. "No!" Sam shook the woman roughly. "Tell him. Tell him what you said to me."

"I didn't. I don't know what you mean!"

"Sammy, let her go. Let's get outta here. Get you settled down. We'll figure this out. I promise Sammy." Dean said as he lowered the gun slightly. A look of anger crossed Sam's face as he gaped at the woman who'd just told him he was to be the destroyer of all he loved.

"You lie!" Sam shook the woman, bringing a thick line of blood to her throat with the china. "Demons lie!" Another woman in the diner screamed at the sight of the woman's blood.

"Shoot him! Stop him from hurting her!" the shrill voice rang out as the frizzy haired woman begged Dean to shoot. "For God's sake stop him!"

"Shut up!" Dean barked. The woman fell silent. "Sammy, come on." Dean begged softly. "Just let her go."

"No. She's a demon. She has to die!" he screamed trying to drown out the sound of the bones. Sam started to drag the shard across her throat and she gave a pain filled scream. Dean angled the gun and pulled the trigger.

**A/N2: Oops! Wonder what happened to Sammy? Don't forget to hit that little button.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: You guys have given this story a really wonderful response so thanks for all the great reviews. So to Mish,(girl, I think I've developed a complex about Sam's eyes, but that's for another story) Jean, Lee, spnMom, ST, and Vonnie, here's chapter two to make things a little easier on you girls...or not.**

**Also to pizzapixie and psylocke23. LOL, glad I can make you happy with a little hurt Sammy.**

**Also, something I learned from this fandom: Lore, mythology,and ritual exists to be played with(with respect of course). I looked up a random demon that could do what I wanted to do and changed him to look the way I wanted him to look and to give you all a helluva scare for the next chapter. Have fun, enjoy the read and don't forget to catch chapter three coming tomorrow.  
**

**Chapter 2**

Sam hissed in pain and clutched his shoulder where the bullet burned him, tearing through his shirt and just grazing his skin, before plowing into the restaurant wall over the crouching, terrified patrons. The shard dropped and the waitress lurched away from him, pressing a hand over the cut on her throat. Dean knew the wound the waitress sustained wasn't life threatening. He went to Sam as his brother dropped to his knees, a bloody hand on his head.

"Sam?" Sam's hand dropped from his head as Dean looked at the graze on his arm. "Sammy?!" Dean questioned more urgently as Sam remained silent. Sam looked up through bleary eyes, searching his brother's face.

"Dean… what happened?" Dean clutched both hands to Sam's cheeks after putting his Colt back into his waistband. He looked at the blood smearing Sam's forehead where Sam had rested his cut palm and then searched Sam's eyes.

"What do you mean what happened?"

"My shoulder hurts." Sam suddenly sagged against Dean, going nearly limp in his arms as Dean quickly braced himself and caught Sam to his chest. "I don't feel right Dean. My…my head." Sam buried his head in Dean's neck and winced, the sound choking off in pain.

The man that had brandished the chair earlier, a taller man with graying hair, stepped up. "I'm calling the police. He needs to be locked up!"

"No. Please, he's got a fever and it makes him delusional. He's sick. I've got him. We'll just leave. It's under control. He's under control.

"He's insane!" The waitress screamed, a towel clenched to her throat as she leaned into one of the other waitresses.

"Look. I'm takin' him outta here. You'll never see us again. I just need time to get his fever down." Dean said sincerely. He directed his attention to his brother. "Come on Sammy, we really need to leave." Dean heaved Sam to his feet and held him tight as he sagged again. Dean walked Sam out of a place for the second time in as many days, supporting most of his not-so-little little brother's weight. Sam's head lolled, Dean catching glimpses of fever spots on his brother's cheeks. Blood dripped steadily from Sam's burned, cut right hand from where Dean suspected that an embedded sliver of ceramic aggravated the wound. A patch of red covered Sam's shoulder from the end of his collarbone nearly to his elbow, but the graze appeared to only be seeping.

"Come on Sammy. Let's get you outta here. Getcha patched up and maybe then you can tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours while we put this damn town in our rear view for good." Dean again levered Sam's long body into the passenger seat of the car and closed the door, watching for a second as Sam shifted to lay his fevered cheek against the window, the body heat and his breathing fogging the glass. Dean pulled out of the diner's parking area and sped down the road towards the motel, thinking of a way, short of running from cops again, that he could deal with the trouble Sam brought down on them.

-X-

Fabric rustled in the chaos of the diner as people scrambled towards the door after the crazy young man and his gun toting friend fled. A man who seemed to have shadows clinging to him even in daylight stood from the darkest booth in the back corner of the diner, sweeping a hand over the crowd, who stilled and quieted immediately. A rattle echoed in the diner. A dozen people turned as one to face the man in the duster, taking in his lowered, wide brimmed had and dark presence as his eyes seemed to glow gray beneath the hat. A resonating voice filled the diner and the patron's ears. "You will remember nothing of the Winchesters. They are my quarry and no concern of yours. All is forgotten. Go about your business. The man walked up to the waitress who had straightened from the companion she still leaned against. A puzzled look crossed her face as the demon fixed glowing eyes on her. He swept a hand across her throat, knocking the towel from her fingers. The wound sealed and the blood turned to ash, flaking away to float unseen to the floor.

"You will not remember being the harbinger of Sam Winchester's destruction." The woman's eyes clouded for a second before she looked at the duster clad man. Then she smiled and spoke.

"Have a nice day!" She said cheerfully as she turned to go back into the kitchen to pick up her next order as everyone returned to their booths and resumed conversations as if the Winchesters had never existed.

-X-

Dean glanced back at the bed when Sam sighed, shifting his head on the pillow. Dean turned from the window after one last, puzzled look out. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at his brother. The fever spots were gone, Sam's sweaty hair long dry. Guilt ate at Dean, knowing he was responsible for whatever had happened in the woods the other night. _Was it only last freaking night?_ Dean scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed, checking Sam's bandages. The bleeding had stopped with only a small spot showing through on both Sam's hand and his shoulder. Dean had dug three slivers of ceramic out of Sam's palm, the splinters driven deep. He'd dressed and bandaged the burns over the back of Sam's hand and wrist and stitched Sam's shoulder._ Thank god it only needed three stitches._ Dean thought as he touched Sam's collarbone, squeezing gently. Dean glanced around the western themed room, the Indian teepees and field grass depicted on the wallpaper making Dean feel a little like the siege was about to start. He brushed Sam's hair back off his head and stood, going to the window again. _Where the hell are the cops? I expected the last stand at the O.K. Corral way before this._ Dean took a deep breath and rubbed the tension out of the back of his neck watching the sun approach the horizon. He hated autumn, the days so short and the nights way too long, giving evil too much time for fun.

"Dean?"

Dean turned from the window at the sound of his name. The voice was weak, tired sounding. He saw his brother's tired eyes looking at him from the bed, where Sam had turned his head to find Dean after waking. He walked to the bed and sat on the edge, Sam smiling a little at feeling the bed dip beneath Dean's weight. "Hey Sammy, how ya feelin'?"

"Tired." Sam said on a sigh, licking his dry lips.

"Thirsty?" Dean asked, noticing.

"A little." Dean stood and went to the sink in the kitchenette of their room, running some water from the tap in to a disposable cup. He returned to the bed and helped Sam ease into a semi sitting position, propping pillows up behind him. He handed Sam the water and watched while Sam drank greedily.

"Hey, slow down. Don't want ya sick." Sam did as asked and sipped at the water, still draining the glass in just a few minutes. Dean took the empty plastic and refilled it, this time placing it on the bedside stand within Sam's reach. "Now. Mind tellin' me what the hell's goin' on with you?" Dean asked as the bed dipped under his weight once more

Sam sighed. "I don't know. I was sitting at the booth, waiting on you to come back from callin' Bobby." At Dean's startled look Sam smiled a little. "Yes, I know you called Bobby. He's the only one you trust when it comes to me and this whole psychic whatever. Crap. This feeling came over me. It was like I HAD to fight. No matter what it seemed _so_ important to me that I not listen to what she said. It was like last night. That _was_ just last night wasn't it?" Sam asked, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand.

"What did happen last night, Sammy? You never could tell me."

"You took off after that thing we saw and I followed. I saw movement and took a different trail. It just… appeared right in front of me. I heard this… rattle. Ya know, it kinda sounded like old bones clinking together. It said something to me and… I don't know." Sam cast his eyes to the bed where his legs rested under the covers.

"What Sammy?" Dean asked gripping Sam's jaw line and forcing his eyes back up. Dean ducked his head and looked deep into Sam's hazel with his own green. "Talk to me." Dean said softly.

"Rebellion. It just hit me. Like no matter what I had to do the total opposite of what the thing's voice said. It wanted me Dean. For something. I just knew it. I couldn't… can't give in."

"We'll figure it out Sammy." Dean said reassuringly. Sam shrugged out of Dean's hold.

"So when's Bobby getting here anyway?"

"Should be any time now. Said he was six hours out. That was four and a half ago." Dean moved from the bed to the window again.

"Am I going insane?" Sam asked Dean's back in a small voice. Dean whirled.

"What?! Hell no." Dean rubbed his arm and glared at his brother. "We'll figure it out Sam." Dean barked out, turning back to the window. "Get some more sleep." Dean said in the voice that Sam always listened to. The quieter version of the one that screamed "Drop!" when they hunted a spirit. The same voice that said "Bitch" to Sam's "Jerk." Sam pulled the extra pillow out from under his head and lay back on the bed, his head hurting. Hazel eyes soon drifted closed.

When Sam awoke again it was to Dean shaking his shoulder gently. "Hey Sammy. Bobby's here."

"How ya feelin', Sam?" The gruff voice of the older hunter, their surrogate father, filled his ears.

"I'm alright now. Just wish I knew what's happening." Sam said as he sat up on the bed and pushed back the covers, putting his sock clad feet on the floor and working the wrinkles out of the cuffs of his ripped jeans.

"That's why I'm here. I have an idea how we can find out what's goin' on."

Both Dean and Sam came to attention at Bobby's words. "How?" They echoed.

"Dean told me what you said happened in the woods the other night…"

"Last night." Dean said.

Bobby pinned Dean with a look that said _Shuddup._ "I'm thinkin' the bastard had ta touch ya to bind itself to ya. Well, we can find out if it did and banish the sucker 'for it gets to ya again."

"Bobby, I don't think it can get to me." Sam said quietly, dropping his eyes from his friend and his brother to the worn blue and brown carpeting that sported an overlapping horseshoe pattern.

"What do ya mean Sam?"

"I think I'm fighting it. Y'know… psychically." Sam said barely above a whisper, his face turning slightly red. Bobby moved to the bed where Sam sat and pulled the chair out from the desk nearby, turning it so he could sit and face Sam.

"Sam?" The youngest Winchester looked up, reading Bobby's eyes beneath his grease stained ball cap. He saw no condemnation there and relaxed. "I'm glad you're holdin' it off, boy. I don't think I'd be strong enough to." Dean watched the scene between his remaining family, both concern for Sam and love for Bobby flickering across his face.

_I'm not sure how much longer Sammy can fight though._ Dean moved to the bed and sat beside Sam, his shoulder bumping his brother's. Sam relaxed further at the casual support he felt from Dean in the only expression of love Dean seemed to be able to give unflinchingly. It was enough for Sam.

"So you think it marked me somehow?" Sam asked, leaning into his brother for a second before standing from the bed. "How do we find out?"

Bobby went to the duffel bag he'd brought in from his car. He pulled out several items, some dried greens, a stick of charcoal and a book. Bobby picked up the charcoal and the greens, wrapping them around the stick. Sam smelled it now. Rosemary.

"Dean, gimme your lighter." Bobby said, holding the prepared incense up. Dean dug in his pocket and pulled a silver Zippo. Flicking the lid open he struck the roller off the flint and a strong flame came to life. Bobby lit the end of the charcoal and blew on it, lighting off the rosemary. He allowed the smoke to billow for a bit before motioning Sam away from the bed slightly. Sam stepped forward. "You have to let the smoke hit ya Sam. Just stay still and let us look. Bobby began the incantation that would utilize the herb to reveal hidden knowledge. _"Scisco ut exsisto ostendo nota, malum obligatus compleo. Tribuo quaritas necto malum._ _Tribuo nobis scientia occultus ex nostrum os. Sino nos constrictum malum duco"_ Sam inhaled the fragrant smoke, the pungent charcoal stinging his nose. Bobby allowed the smoke to rise from the end of the charcoal, watching as the rosemary continued to flame slightly as the charcoal glowed red. He guided the smoke over Sam's body as he stretched out with his hands flung away from his sides. Sam's hands showed nothing, his arms becoming slightly soot stained with the bluish dust. Bobby guided the herb up Sam's shoulders to his face, the odor now making his eyes water.

"There Bobby." Dean said, his features darkening with worry as a handprint stood out in ash on Sam's temple and cheekbone. The blue soot clung to his skin as if it were painted there.

"What?" Sam asked as he caught Dean's look between him and Bobby. Dean took the lighter out of his pocket again and used the shiny surface as a mirror to show Sam the soot handprint on his face. "Holy crap." Sam said, swallowing hard as his face paled.

"So what is it Bobby? How the hell do we stop it?!" Dean asked as he put the lighter back into his pocket and paced across the room.

"I'm not sure Dean. I'll see what I can find out." Bobby gathered his stuff and Dean showed him to the door. "I'll be in touch. Keep an eye on your brother until I find out what we're dealin' with here."

"Bobby, if that thing marked him how the hell am I supposed to keep it from gettin' to him?"

"Dean!" Bobby scolded. "Use what ya know. Your daddy taught ya better than this."

"Yeah Bobby. Okay. I'll talk to ya soon alright?"

"Take care kid." Bobby said as he stepped down the sidewalk to his car. He tossed the duffel into the back and got in, firing the rumbling engine. He pulled out of the lot and turned north. Dean locked the door securely and checked the line of salt he'd put down. Turning from the door he found Sam looking at him as he sat on the bed.

"You're worried." Sam said, the bluish soot still marking the outlines of that awful sight. Dean remained silent as he went to the bathroom and returned a minute later with a damp washcloth.

"Of course I'm worried. I let you outta my sight and now we don't know what the hell is goin' on." Dean sat on the edge of the bed and wiped at the bluish stain on Sam's cheek with the warm cloth. The soot wiped away and Dean frowned. "I wish it was that easy."

"Dean, this isn't your fault. I get the feeling that thing would have found me anyway." Sam said quietly, dropping his gaze as Dean pulled the cloth away from his now clean face.

"Because of your freaky mojo?"

"Yeah. I think so." Sam said as he sighed and faced his brother again. He remained silent. Dean looked him over, pausing to check the bandages on Sam's shoulder beneath his tee and his hand.

"Sam, your hand bleedin' again?"

"I guess it is… or was. It doesn't hurt that much." Sam said as Dean took his hand and gently removed the top layer of bandages. The gauze underneath was spotted across his palm with blood and across the back with yellow fluid from the blisters that had popped and drained.

"I need to change these bandages." Dean said as he reached for the med kit on his bed. He made short work of removing the gauze by soaking the dry fluid free before removing the gauze to minimize the pain. He applied ointment after cleaning the wounds and open blisters and then rewrapped the wound. "All done Sammy." Dean said as he tapped Sam's knee. Sam jumped, his eyes flying open. "Hey! Hey, it's all right." Dean said as he grabbed Sam's shoulder to settle him. "Sorry Sammy."

"No, it's okay. I'm tired, that's all."

"Get some more sleep. I'll wake ya when Bobby finds out who our friendly neighborhood Mind Freak is." Dean said as he helped Sam lay back, putting his legs up on the bed. He pulled the blanket up to Sam's torso, allowing him to shift so that his shoulder wasn't touching the mattress and his hand rested on the mound the covers made over his chest. "Go to sleep. Ya hear me?"

Sam nodded, his eyes slipping closed. "Hey Dean?" Sam asked, fighting to open them again. Dean turned back to the bed. "You'll stay here?" Sam looked up at his big brother, terrified hazel eyes seeming too large for his face. Dean put a hand to Sam's shoulder, careful to stay above the bandage. He squeezed gently.

"I'll be close."

Sam nodded and closed his eyes once more. Dean stood there for a full minute, watching his brother, before turning to his duffle bag and pulling out a hunting knife in a leather sheath. He loosened his belt and worked the sheath over the work belt, hooking the eight inch knife securely at his hip.

-X-

Bobby pulled the car off the edge of the road near the landmark that Dean had told him about, a huge oak tree, split by lightening. Its blackened splinters and dead branches still reached for the heavens concealed by the low hanging gray clouds. He got out of his Nova and made his way into the forest after grabbing a shotgun and a book of Latin rituals. Bobby walked into the interior, remembering the directions Dean had said he went after he and Sam got separated. Bobby saw the signs of both boys and where they had come back together, the disturbed leaves on the forest floor neatly advertising where Sam had lain when Dean found him. Bobby cleared the leaves from in front of him and pulled a small bag of items from his vest pocket. He pulled out a handful of herbs and put them in a pile on the bare earth. Pulling a small bottle from his other pocket he made a circle of finely ground salt around the herbs. Bobby stood back from the circle and opened the small book to the marked page. He began to speak.

_Scisco ut exsisto ostendo nota, malum obligatus compleo. Tribuo quaritas necto malum._ _Tribuo nobis scientia occultus ex nostrum os. Sino nos constrictum malum duco"Ego voco vos ut is tractus pro mihi. Ego redimio vestri navitas ut orbis quod terminus vestri pervenio per perpetuus versus."_

Bobby pulled his ball cap low over his eyes to shield them as the wind picked up. He crouched down to put the last ingredient into the summoning spell. Gun powder. Lighting a match and blocking the wind with his hand he lit the powder and hastily stood back as the pile flared and burned brightly. The wind swirled around Bobby and the sky blackened. A rattle, the sound Sam had mentioned, like old bones filled the air and was followed closely by the rustle of heavy fabric. A shadow shrouded figure appeared inside the circle, the black boot scattering the still smoldering pile of ash and burnt gunpowder.

Bobby stood straight as the wind died to silence. "Who the hell are you and what do you want with Sam Winchester?"

"He'll die by my hand." A resonant voice said as the wind rose and the sound of rattling bones could be heard above the noise. The shadowy figure lifted its hand, a ring of tiny skulls hanging from his finger tips. The forehead of each skull had a symbol etched into it and painted in blood. Bobby recognized three of the sigils as the ring of skulls reflected the moonlight. He shook the bones and Bobby felt pain in his head as the noise grated on his nerves. The wind howled and the ring of salt blew away as the figure disappeared. Bobby felt a hit from above and grunted as he fell to the ground, unmoving. A tree branch lay awkwardly across his body.

**Hate me yet? No? Yes? Hit the little button.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Grrr. For some reason the site isn't letting me reply to reviews this morning so making for an extra long note here, I'm going to Thank you all.**

**Blue Peanut: This story is for you and I'm glad to know you're not let down by it. Happy birthday girl! Can't help but giggle though. "Patiently waiting" I don't think anyone is patiently waiting. LOL! Psylocke, it's good to have you back! Bobby will be alright. He's always alright. Soncnica, as always you find something to love in a fic and you let me know. This time it's everything from bitchy Sammy with a limp to Dean charging in to save the day. Thanks girl. Vonnie, who always makes herself late for work reading my stuff, thanks girl but you can read anytime. I know you're always around. And finally to Ali from Pa. Thanks for worrying about Bobby. I love him too much to kill him so he's alright. And to everyone else who hasn't caught up with that(Merisha is busy with my next story-thanks again girl) and ST who's probably on call but still making my life with the reviews she leaves... Thanks my friends.  
**

**Okay, now that I'm done with that, here's the final chapter. I hope you all enjoy and just to let you know about the ending. You're gonna hate me once again.**

**Chapter 3**

"_You're destined to be evil Sam. Not strong enough to fight me. Give in to me Sam. You will take joy in watching the world crumble to dust beneath your feet as you take your place as Destroyer."_ The rattle of bones caused Sam to moan in pain, his eyebrows furrowing as his head shifted to the side on the flat motel pillow. Dean heard the small noise and walked to the bed, sitting down beside his brother and reaching out a hand, smoothing the pain lines gently from his little brother's forehead.

"Easy kiddo. Just rest. 'M sure Bobby will be back soon." Dean said, watching with a small smile as Sam seemed to calm down.

-X-

"NNuuh." Bobby groaned, reaching a weak feeling hand out behind him to pull the heavy branch off his back. He felt it scrape across his back and rip at his flannel shirt, but it finally gave and slid to the forest floor beside where he lay. He forced himself to his knees, feeling a trickle of blood run down his cheek from his temple to become lost in his beard. He picked up his ball cap and placed it back on his head. He eased upright and caught himself, breathing slowly as the world spun before slowing to a stop and resembling something normal. Memories flashed through Bobby's head and he remembered the sigils that he'd seen before being knocked out. "Aw, Damn." He turned from the place he'd fallen and pulled his cell from his pocket as he dashed through the woods as quickly as his aging body would allow. "Come on Dean. Answer your phone!" Bobby yelled to the forest as the phone continued to ring.

-X-

Dean turned from Sam as he heard his phone ring on the table. He stood from the bed and hesitated when he heard Sam moan painfully. "Sammy." Dean said softly, sitting back on the bed and running a hand through Sam's hair. _ I know it's probably Bobby, but he needs me._ "Shh, little brother. It's okay, you're okay." Dean continued to run his hand over Sam's hair and Sam moaned again, turning his cheek into Dean's hand.

-X-

"_This is Dean. Leave a message. If you don't hear back from me call my brother Sam…"_

"Damnit!" Bobby cursed, flipping his phone shut, effectively cutting off the message as he pulled open the door of his car. The car rumbled to life, a puff of black smoke coming out of the tailpipe before clearing. The car was slammed into drive and fishtailed back onto the road, roaring down the blacktop. He pulled a hand from the wheel and lifted the cell phone he'd dropped on the other seat, hitting a speed dial button with one hand as he flipped the phone open.

"_Bobby?"_

"Thank God. Dean, is Sam still asleep?"

"_Yeah. Bobby, what's up?"_

"Balban. That's what's up."

"_Why does that sound familiar?"_ Bobby heard a gasping, strangled cry come through the phone and recognized Sam's voice as the one to cry out.

"Dean?!"

"_It's Sammy. He just sat straight up and… Hey, I gotta go. Get back here ASAP."_ Bobby heard the phone move away from Dean's ear. _"Sammy? Sam?"_ _ Click._ Bobby slammed the accelerator to the floor.

Dean flipped his phone shut and dropped it on the table beside him, going quickly to Sam's side. Sam was sat up in the bed, breathing in gasps, his chin nearly touching his chest. "Hey Sammy? What's wrong? Talk to me bro."

"I couldn't fight it." Sam whispered. "I can't fight it."

"What?" Dean asked, not quite hearing Sam's barely there, choked out words.

Sam's head whipped up meeting Dean's gaze with hazel eyes ringed with silver gray, like molten lead. A strong hand came up faster than Dean could back away and locked itself around his wrist in a painful, vice like grip. "It told me I can't fight what I'm meant to be." Sam said, in a monotone. Sam stood from the bed in one fluid motion, keeping his grip on the wrist that Dean no longer had feeling in, forcing his brother to take a step back as Sam's body filled the space where Dean's had been.

"Sam. No. You can fight this. Whatever this is, you can fight. Let me help you fight."

Sam's odd eyes glazed briefly, Dean's words sinking in. "I don't…," he took a ragged, sobbing breath, a single breath that ripped through Dean, "wanna hurt you." Sam's head dropped, his grip remaining locked tight, before his head lifted again, revealing his eyes, his silver ringed eyes. "It said I can't fight it." Sam gritted out between clenched teeth, his cheeks puffing just slightly with the force of the words.

"Sammy."

"NO!" Sam's face distorted with rage and he reached out with the other hand, ripping Dean's hunting knife from its sheath before throwing Dean backwards, the bruising grip on his wrist turning to deep scratches from Sam's fingernails. Dean was lifted off his feet by the force of the throw, slamming backwards into the corner of the doorway to the bathroom. The door trim impacted his spine up his back and to the back of his head with enough force to slam the open bathroom door into the wall, burying the knob in the drywall. Dean managed a grunt before sliding, unmoving, down the wall, his prone body resting half in and half out of the bathroom.

Sam held the knife to his chest as the rattle of bones echoed throughout the silent motel room. The only thing louder than the rattle was Sam's breathing and pained groan as the noise spiked a shaft of pain through his head. Sam turned to the shadow man as he appeared in the room, the darkness clinging to all but his eyes. Eyes that now held the same color as Sam's, silver ringed hazel. The shadow man, the same height as Sam turned to face him, lifting his face to the light for the first time. Sam held the point of the knife to his chest, poking a hole in his shirt that slowly turned red with the blood brought by the knife.

"No." Sam shook his head vehemently, grip on the knife tightening. The door to the motel room burst open, an engine running in the background, as Bobby burst through, gun raised. The shadow man turned slightly, solid in the room now, as Bobby looked at Sam with the knife to his chest.

"No! Sam fight it!" Bobby screamed as he leveled the gun on the knife Sam held to his chest. "Don't you give into him, son!"

The dark man turned to Bobby, his head lowered once again, and waved a hand nonchalantly. Bobby's gun flew from his hand and the older hunter flew backward with another wave. Bobby grunted and slid down the wall into a dazed heap. The shadow turned back to Sam.

"Destroyer." He said. "Now you know why I'm so sure you can't fight me." The shadow man pulled the wide brimmed hat off his head, showing Sam his face, the fabric of the duster swirling with his movement. "You can't fight yourself, Sam."

"You don't think so?" Sam said, fury marring his features as he shifted his eyes to his brother, who was just starting to stir on the floor. Sam turned the knife and lunged at his counterpart. The knife came down and sank deep into his chest through the coarse fabric of the duster. Sam's doppelganger screamed in pain and a ball of flame erupted from where the knife entered his chest. Sam screamed as the flame engulfed him for a split second before going out with a _whoosh, _shoving him back from the other in the room. Sam's legs folded beneath him and he crumpled to the floor, unmoving as ash drifted around him. Raspy breath broke the silence of the room until a groan drowned it out.

Dean pushed himself upright, Sam's screams echoing in his ears as he forced himself to ignore the pain running through his back and head. He half crawled, stumbling to Sam's side where he dropped back to his knees. Dean groaned again as he took Sam's weight, rolling him over in his arms. Sam's skin was red, his hair singed and lips dried out from the flames. The bandages on his right hand, which was still gripping the knife, were blackened, fresh burns showing through the holes in the material. Dean shifted Sam onto his lap and pulled the injured hand up onto Sam's chest, turning it over to look at the knife still gripped in his hand.

"Aw, god." Dean cried, smoothing a hand gently over Sam's fire stung face. He pulled his little brother close, ignoring the pain that jumped up and down his back. "Hey kiddo, need ya to wake up Sammy." Dean glanced up as he heard a groan from across the room. Bobby stirred and sat up, putting a hand to his head as he reached for his ball cap with the other one.

"Sam?"

"He's out cold. Bobby, whatever he did… He's burned pretty bad. His hand… the knife's freakin' burned fast to his hand. Face and hair's singed too. Bobby, what the hell was that? I mean, I don't know what the hell hap- happened. I was awake enough to hear him scream, b-but that's it." Dean's voice broke twice trying just to get the words out. Bobby came over and crouched, his knees popping, beside the fallen Winchester. He eyed the knife clutched in Sam's clenched fist and could smell the burnt flesh of his hand.

"Damn." Bobby said, gently easing Sam's fingers from around the knife, seeing the line of livid blisters and red flesh across Sam's palm and the pads of his fingers. Bobby dropped the still warm knife to the floor. "Balban." Bobby said, looking Sam over for other injury as he lay silent in Dean's arms. "The demon of delusion. Said to twist reality with a person's worst nightmare to bring on madness. Think Sam's was goin' darkside an' hurtin' you in the process."

"That name seems familiar." Dean said, looking down at his brother.

"It should. Couple weeks after the gate opened an' we faced the sins I started researchin' demons that hadn't walked the earth for millennia. It was sketchy, ancient books, lots a translatin'. Tryin to prepare for what we gotta send back ta hell. I read enough about him ta place the ring of skulls and the sigils on 'em. I saw the bastard in the woods. Didn't see a face."

"I think Sammy did."

"Yeah. Think so too."

"Nnn." Sam's head moved against Dean's arm.

"Hey Sammy, ya with us?" Hazel eyes opened to slits.

"'m sor…" he whispered before they closed again. He went limp in Dean's arms.

"Sam?" Dean shook him before stilling with a wince and trying again. "Sammy?"

"He's exhausted Dean. Let's get 'im to bed." Dean looked up, slightly lost.

"Don't think I can lift all his weight Bobby. Took a hit, my back's shot."

"Never told ya to Dean. I can help." Dean angled Sam so that his little brother was sitting up. Bobby steadied him and allowed Dean to shift from his knees into a crouch, noting the grimace that crossed Dean's face. Together, they stumbled with Sam between them to the bed, situating Sam on it. Dean bent to retrieve the med kit from his duffle and was unable to disguise his moan of pain.

"That's it!"

"What?"

"I'm done with you forgettin' to take care a yourself an' puttin' everyone else first! I'll take care of Sam after I get a look-see at your back."

"It's not…"

"Shuddup and get yer damn ass on that bed before…" Bobby broke off his sentence and crossed his arms over his chest. "Boy, don't you think for a minute that I can't whup it fer ya. NOW!"

"Yes, sir." Dean gingerly shrugged out of his over shirt and lay down on the bed. Keeping as much of his pain to himself as he could, he grit his teeth and shoved his fists up under the pillow beneath his head. Bobby retrieved the med kit Dean had been unable to and sat it on the table between the beds.

"Can ya get outta your tee shirt Dean?"

"Don't think so. Just cut it off." Bobby nodded and pulled scissors from the kit, cutting away Dean's shirt, revealing a solid vertical line of bruising an inch to the left of Dean's spine. Bobby gingerly probed the surrounding areas, grimacing when Dean groaned.

"Gonna getcha some ice. Just stay put."

"Don't think I could get up to go party Bobby."

"Good. Keep yer ass still for once an' let somebody look after you two chuckle heads." Bobby grabbed the ice bucket off the door side stand and left the room. Filling the bucket, he returned to the room and took one of the large white towels from the bathroom, stretching it out on the bed beside Dean. Bobby dumped the ice in a line down the vertical length of the towel and flipped the other half up and over the ice. He folded in the ends and used bandage tape to secure the ice bag shut. The long compress would cover the bruising and help with the swelling. Bobby pulled the sheet over Dean's back and settled it just below his neck before laying the compress over the covered skin.

"Gah!" Dean grunted.

"Easy son. Just give it a minute."

"'m alright Bobby. Check Sammy. Please." Dean said as he sighed and his eyes slipped closed, the events of the last days catching up with him. Bobby ran a comforting, calloused hand over the back of Dean's spiky hair and turned to face the youngest, still unconscious, Winchester.

Bobby gently cut away the remains of the bandage and redressed the wound, putting ointment on new and old blisters alike, but paying closer attention to the line of ugly blistering of burned tissue that centered in his palm and across the fingers of his right hand. That done, Bobby went to the bathroom and grabbed a warm washcloth, cleaning the soot from Sam's face and hair as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Your hair'll need a trim kiddo. 's pretty singed." Bobby chided gently as he brushed the locks back from Sam's forehead. Bobby let his hand rest for a moment when he noticed the heat coming off of Sam. "Crap." The older hunter bolted for the bathroom again and ran the cloth under cold water, returning to Sam's side. Bobby placed the cloth on Sam's forehead and ran his water chilled hand over Sam's cheek. "Please, kid. Be alright." Bobby pulled the chair away from the desk, putting it close to the bed and sat down on the worn upholstery. He watched as Sam's eyes moved behind their lids. Sam made a small noise and Bobby heard the rustling of sheets on the other bed as Dean's head turned to face his brother. Dean remained asleep. Bobby carded his hand through Sam's hair and then reached up and removed his ball cap. He scratched his head and put the cap back, settling in for a long night of watching over his boys.

-X-

"What the hell?" Dean asked aloud as he spun a tight circle in the clearing he remembered from the other night. "How did I get here?" He looked up into the ring of trees that surrounded him, pressing in on him. They reflected the red light of the moon off the shiny surfaces of the leaves, blinding him as the light flickered in the breeze. He turned again, slower, as he felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. A voice reached his ears, weak and raspy.

"…_can't fight anymore…"_ Dean strained his ears and picked up the voice again as it repeated the words.

"_I can't… can't fight anymore…"_ Recognition dawned on Dean.

"Sammy?" Dean turned and caught the words one last time, zeroing in on the direction of the sound. Dean walked under the red moonlight towards the sound of the voice he now recognized as his distraught baby brother. A quiet sob drifted to Dean's ears and he broke into a run, dodging tree limbs and jumping boulders as he ran down the obscure trail he recognized with heart stopping clarity. Dean broke into the clearing and stopped dead in his tracks.

-X-

Bobby pulled the now warm washcloth off of Sam's forehead as his head shifted on the pillow, the youngest Winchester groaning softly. "Easy son. Be right back." Bobby stood from the chair and went into the small bathroom, re-wetting the cloth with cool water. He pulled one of the covers off of the plastic cups on the counter and put a small amount of cold water into the glass. He took it to the bedroom and opened the med kit and pulled out three Tylenol gel caps. Bobby pulled the tiny capsules apart and dumped the powder into the water, swirling it until it turned clear once more. He lifted Sam's head and tipped the water to his lips. "It's gonna taste like ass, kid, but it'll help." The water pushed its way past Sam's lips and he swallowed reflexively. A small amount dribbled down his chin and soaked the collar of his tee shirt, darkening the already soot stained gray fabric. Sam choked a little before quieting. Bobby ran a calloused hand over Sam's forehead, brushing his hair back, before he resettled the cloth in place. He moved to Dean's side and pulled the slowly melting compress from Dean's chilled back. Dean sighed and worked his head deeper into the pillow.

-X-

"Sammy?!"

Dean saw his brother on his knees in the leaves that covered the floor of the clearing. Sam's head was bowed, his shoulders hunched. Inaudible sobs caused them to shake. Dean went to his brother's side and crouched down, reaching a hand out to grip the top of Sam's shoulder. "Sammy?"

"I can't…" Sam whispered, a tear falling from his face to land on a leaf in front of his left knee. The drop glinted red in the bizarre light of the moon.

"Sammy, hey. Look at me kiddo. Please?" Dean chucked his knuckle under Sam's chin and lifted his face with a gentle touch. Sam's eyes closed as his head rose, the twin tears falling from them to course down his face, one being slowed just slightly by the mole next to his nose. The salty liquid finally made it past the obstacle and rushed ahead to come in a close second to the other in it's descent to the leaves.

"Sam, please." Dean pleaded.

"I told you… I can't fight it…anymore." Sam's eyes snapped open and Dean pulled back, a cry flying from his lips as he landed on his butt in the leaves. Sam stood in a fluid motion, looming over Dean, looking down as his molten silver eyes bored into Dean's frightened green ones.

"No. Nonononono. Sammy? Sam, come on, ya gotta fight. I know you're stronger than this."

"Am I? I don't really think so. See, it's so hard… so hard to keep up the pretense that I'm normal. I'm not. Never have been. Not since I was… Six. Months. Old."

"No Sammy. You're my brother. My family. As normal as we get."

Sam threw back his head and laughed, a harsh, guttural sounding laugh that echoed throughout the moonlit night and sent night birds flapping through the trees. Dean jumped, his eyes going to his brother's face as he shifted in the leaves, feeling something cold bite into the small of his back. Dean stilled, his face going emotionless.

Sam's laugh died off, still ringing in the stillness of the night. He raised a loosely fisted right hand, free of burns and bandages. A noise built as Sam shook his hand slightly, building from a whisper to the rattle Dean was familiar with. A rattle that sounded like dead tree branches clicking together in the winds of a hurricane. Pain shot through Dean's head but he refused to flinch as he watched the air shimmer slightly around Sam's hand as the noise grew to painful intensity. Dean watched as black ash accumulated in the air around Sam's hand, coalesced and shaped itself into a ring of tiny skulls. Foreign symbols glowed with an indigo light before the skulls appeared to bleach out, the black fading to the white of long exposed bone as if the color was running off of the skulls.

"Sam." Dean said, looking deep into his brother's eyes, searching for some remaining part of his brother that he could reach.

"Sam's not here right now." A smirk graced Sam's features, twisting them with darkness as more ash filtered through the red light of the night and gathered around Sam, cloaking him in shadows as it thickened and formed itself to Sam's body, becoming heavy, rustling fabric. The little brother Dean knew began to look like a stranger; his face twisted with cruelty, black cloak and white skulls looking like a grotesque extension of his body, his hands, as he rolled his shoulders and accustomed himself to the feel of the heavy duster.

"I won't let you give up Sammy." Dean snarled, reaching quickly behind his back. Silver metal glowed blood red in the moonlight before a shot rang out. The shadow clad figure of Sam lurched with the impact of a bullet, giving a choked off grunt. Dean scrambled to his feet as Sam changed once again. The black ash fell away, red light arching through it as it rained to the ground. The white ring of skulls slipped from Sam's boneless fingers and fell, bursting into a cloud of white ash as it hit the leaves with a clatter. Sam stood still for a second before he looked down at his chest, a blood soaked gray tee glinting darkly in the moonlight. Hazel eyes looked back up at his brother, full of relief.

"Dean." Sam breathed, just before he slid to his knees. Dean lurched forward and caught Sam before he could hit, easing him the rest of the way down. Sam sagged into him, the warmth of his blood sending chills coursing through Dean's body.

"Sammy!" Dean lifted Sam's lolling head off of his shoulder, running shaking hands back through his hair. "Hey, you stay with me. Ya hear me?"

"Dean." Sam said, shifting himself to lean fully against his big brother, a grimace crossing his features.

"Yeah Sammy. 'm here."

Sam smiled and reached up a hand, gripping the amulet that rested over Dean's heart. Sam's eyes shifted away from his brother's face to look at the night sky. "It's over." He whispered, nothing more than the movement of his pale lips. Dean saw through moist eyes and leaned closer.

"Sammy?"

"It's over now." Sam repeated, slightly louder and for Dean's ears alone. "The moonlight." Dean pulled his eyes away from Sam and looked up to see a white moon shining brightly down on the clearing, bathing the brothers in brilliant, opaque light. Dean looked down again as he felt a change in his brother. Sam breathed and went limp in Dean's arms, his eyes sliding closed.

"Sammy?!" Dean shook him urgently. "SAM!"

Bobby jumped nearly out of the chair as both brothers sat straight up on their respective beds with twin gasps.

"What the hell?!" Bobby said as he lowered the gun he had automatically drawn. Dean looked at Sam from his bed, breathing heavily, his eyes burning with tears.

"Sammy?"

Sam turned his head slowly, his bandaged right hand pulled tight to his chest. Hazel eyes met Dean's swimming with their own moisture. "It's finally over." Sam whispered, swallowing hard.

"Boys?" Bobby asked, settling back into the chair and looking from Sam to Dean and back again.

"We beat it." Sam said, as he pushed himself back against the headboard, wincing just slightly at the pull against his scabbed shoulder and singed skin. Dean heaved himself off his bed stiffly and sat on Sam's to face Bobby a little easier. Dean too leaned gingerly back against the headboard.

"Balban. He's history." Dean said as he pulled up his right knee and rested his wrist on it. His shoulder bumped Sam's and Sam leaned into the contact, dropping his gaze to the bed.

"Dean…"

"No Sammy."

"No what?"

"I don't wanna hear how you're sorry."

"But…"

Dean turned his gaze sharply to his brother, the movement jarring his sore back but he refused to groan. "Sam… It's over. We're okay. Both of us. That's all that matters, little brother. That's all that's ever mattered."

Sam's cheeks dimpled slightly as his lips turned up at the corners. "Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean said the familiar term of endearment with a grin on his face that reached his eyes. "Hey Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"How bout we get some coffee and hit the road? Swing by your place for a couple days?"

"That's fine boys." Bobby tipped his ball cap back and looked at the brothers. "Do I wanna know what you two were dreamin' that freaked ya both out?"

"Not really Bobby." Dean said as Sam wordlessly leaned a little closer.

The brothers stood from the bed and Sam slipped into his sneakers, quickly following Bobby to the door. Dean stood a little more slowly and put on a tee shirt before stooping to pick up the over shirt he had discarded the night before. _Has it only been three freakin' days since we hit this hole?_ When Dean gripped his shirt and lifted it he heard the dull thunk of something hitting the carpet. His eyes found his pistol. "What the hell? I didn't have that last night."

The smell of burnt gun powder drifted to Dean's nose as he picked up the gun. Dean pulled the clip from the gun, paling. "No." _I loaded that gun. Lucky thirteen._ The clip still held the twelve brass encased shells. The chamber, however, was empty. Dean swallowed hard.

"Hey Dean? Ya comin'?" Sam asked, poking his head back through the open door. Dean stuck the clip back in the gun hurriedly and tucked it into his waistband.

"Yeah Sammy." Dean said, slightly breathlessly as he fought down bile. "Coffee." He said, plastering a smile on his face. It didn't reach his eyes.

"Ya okay?" Sam asked, turning from the door again as Dean emerged into the sunny morning.

"Yeah Sammy." Dean said, his thoughts on the cold steel biting into the small of his back.

**A/N: The Latin, although kind of just pieced together, is a type of binding prayer. I have no real knowledge of the Language or what it may mean to use the prayer. It roughly translates as **_**"I ask the mark of evil to be revealed. I bind its grasp. Allow of that which we know to be bound by our skill. Cast that which is revealed out of ours. We bind its evil influence."**_** That was the first bit of Latin Bobby used in this fic to reveal the demon's mark on Sam. The second Latin roughly translates as **_**"I shout "I'll fight you" so that he is free for me. I bind your energy to that ring which ends your reach by this lasting line." **_**Which is where Bobby binds the demon's control to the lasting line of the salt circle. Again, I know no real Latin or the use, just found a cool translator through the recommendation of a friend. **_**Thanks girl. It made your story that much better I hope!**_

**Also, I deliberately left this story open ended. I had no idea where to take this from here. If someone wants it just let me know. I'd like reading someone else's angst fest. If not I might come back to it once again. I do love the thought of Sam coming into some kind of power that could turn him dark. Let me know if you'd like to see more. How long could Dean keep the fired bullet a secret from Sam? Please review!**


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